


Nights We Never Want to Forget

by orphan_account



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, olicity - Freeform, olicity UST, olicity fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:45:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Nights We Never Want to Forget

 

Felicity had agreed to Thea dressing her for the party she was supposed to attend with Oliver. She said that Oliver, billionaire or not, had social obligations to uphold —at least until their financial estates were all settled, their offshore accounts delegated. So this social appearance was essential. Or at least, that’s what Thea said.

“It’s not those stuffy, cocktail parties with long dresses and such that you were used to seeing,” Thea explained, before gesturing for Felicity to close her eyes as she applied an almost nude eyeshadow to her lids, “It’s more of a…”

Thea trailed off a moment, waving the eyeshadow brush as she searched for the right thing to say, “Party, party.”

“And I can’t wear my normal clothes because…?” Felicity asked, and Thea sighed heavily.

“Felicity. It’s a a party. You’re normal dresses are good for just about every other occasion, but not this. This calls for something slightly less… proper,” The suggestive grin on Thea’s face as she looked over the outfit she had chosen for her caused Felicity to flush slightly, changing the subject.

“I’m sorry, I still don’t understand how this is helpful to Oliver,” Felicity rarely whined, but with her tiny shorts riding impossibly high and Thea fussing over her hair and makeup, her nerves got the best of her.

“The people buying the estates and property we have left are going to be the ones coming into money—the ones looking for something to invest in that will pay off. So, basically, the Tommy and Oliver’s of the social elite. Well. How Tommy and Ollie used to be, at least,” Thea stopped a moment, her throat caught with emotion that she quickly coughed over.

“Okay, that makes sense,” Felicity rationalized as Thea went to fix her lipstick.

“But why do—” She started, causing Thea to smudge lipstick all over her face and them both to laugh a moment. It was an easy, carefree laugh, that had Felicity forgetting how strange it was to have Thea in front of her like this. Doing something as mundane as helping her get ready for a party.

“Why did you tell Oliver to bring me? Things between us are…” She trailed off, sighing as she looked down at her hands, “Well Oliver and I aren’t exactly on normal speaking terms.”

“I know,” Thea said, and Felicity startled at that. What had Oliver told her? “But I see the way Oliver relaxes around you. He’s not really comfortable in this scene anymore—you’ll help him.”

Felicity nodded in understanding as Thea stood back studying her.

“We have to get going,” Oliver called from outside of Thea’s door.

“Oh just hold on Ollie. You’re so damn impatient sometimes,” Thea laughed with a shake of her head.

“All good?” Felicity asked Thea, and she mused a moment before grabbing a blazer from the closet attached to the bathroom, helping Felicity shrug it on over her black top.

“Perfect.”

***

Oliver adjusted his cuff links impatiently as he waited outside of Thea’s bedroom door. He hadn’t talked to Felicity without Digg, Roy, or the Arrow between them in weeks. It had been all tense moments and underlying meanings since Sara’s death. They hadn’t spoken of anything personal, at least to each other, sense. 

So when Thea had made him invite Felicity tonight, he did so begrudgingly. Not because a night alone with Felicity with no Arrow business to attend to didn’t send his mind wild at the opportunities, but because he didn’t know how to act around her. What to keep quiet about; what to reveal—he didn’t want to hurt her any more than he already had, but he had trouble keeping his thoughts and words in check when she was around. She had that effect on him.

And Oliver didn’t want to admit it, but he was nervous.

Thea’s door swung open with a bang as Felicity walked out, swinging a small black bag with a long chain over one shoulder.

“Felicity just keep the cardigan, I have a bunch more. It’s fine. It looks better on you anyways,” Thea said, leaning against the door-jam as Felicity looked back at her with a gracious thank you, but Oliver paid his sister no mind. He was shell-shocked at the Felicity that stood in front of him.

Her hair was different than normal, a bit more wild and messy—much more carefree than her normal slick ponytail, and her face was bare of glasses, her eyes shadowed enticingly. She wore a simple cropped back top with a blazer over it, adding an edgy look he had never seen her wear. Her shorts were up to her waist, leaving just enough skin on her stomach showing that Oliver had to fight the urge to test if it was as soft as it looked. They rode high on her thighs , making her legs impossibly long and alluring as they introduced her heels.

Oliver was certain his mouth was agape as he stared at her, but he couldn’t help it.

“Uh. Hi,” She said, a flush heavy on her cheeks, “You look great,” She appraised, eyes flitting over his three-piece suit.

“You…” Oliver could hear his own voice rough and he cleared his throad, “Beautiful.”

But that wasn’t exactly it—she was, indeed beautiful. She always was, but in that moment, Felicity was enticing. Electric. And sexy as hell.

He was pretty sure he was blushing at the direction of his thoughts, so he forced his gaze to her eyes, relief coursing through his body as they smiled nervously back at him. They were clear and blue, as always. He sighed— his Felicity. She was right there.

“You ready?” He asked, smiling a reassuring smile, and he watched as she visibly relaxed into the woman he knew so well. She nodded, taking his outstretched arm.

“Lets do this,” She agreed, following him out with a small look back at Thea.

“Be safe!” Thea yelled with a laugh, causing Felicity’s ears to ignite at the innuendo, but Oliver pat her arm gently where it lay on his, and she sent him a grateful smile.

They could do this. It was one night. How hard could it be?

****

It had been four hours since they had stepped out of the car and walked up the long entry way to the club opening, where reporters stood lined up, taking pictures of everyone entering.

“Thea said this was a small party!” Felicity had yelled in Oliver’s ear, and he looked at her, panic mirroring her own.

“She told me the same thing,” he had said, and she could see by the horror on his face he wasn’t lying—she had fooled them both.

So Felicity excused it to panic and overwhelm when Oliver had first slipped his hand around her waist, bringing her closer to him. She calmed her erratic heart as his fingers brushed ever so slightly over the exposed skin on her side. It was a fluke. 

Except four hours and twenty six accidentally brushes later—she had kept count— Felicity was having trouble focusing on anything other than Oliver. She tried desperately to maintain conversation with an old friend of Oliver’s that spoke to them animately as they all leaned against the bar, but her every sense was aware of Oliver’s hand hanging by her side between them, his hand covering close to her bare thigh.

Her entire body ached with need, and his suit didn’t help. He didn’t wear one as often anymore, what with the company being out from his control, and she hadn’t realized how much she had missed it until she saw him waiting expectantly outside of Thea’s door.

It had set her blood alight and she hadn’t calmed down since.

“The market has dropped substantially in the last four years,” The man across from her rambled, and she floundered to remember his name. Mark? Matt? She couldn’t remember. It didn’t seem to matter though, as he hardly left any room for either of them to speak.

Oliver shifted next to her out of boredom and feigned interest as he stared at the man, but his new position brought his fingers against her skin and she almost jumped out of her skin at the sensation that wracked her body, causing everyone around her to look at her in confusion. 

“Are you alright?” Oliver asked, concern etching his features, but Felicity could have sworn there was a mischief in his eyes, mocking her.

“Y-Yes,” She stammered, grabbing her bag from the bar, “If you’ll just excuse us for a moment,” She excused, tugging Oliver’s arm. Not that Matt or Mark or whoever minded, as he shrugged and turned to the next person at the bar, striking up conversation.

She pulled Oliver into a hallway behind no doubt leading to offices of some sort—it was much quieter, although the music still made the walls shake slightly.

“What the hell are you doing?” Felicity whirled on him, standing with her back almost against the wall. His touches over the past hours had left her breathless and frustrated, and she channeled that into irritation as she interrogated him.

“What do you mean?” He asked, and she could have sworn he was laughing at her.

“All night you’ve been… you’ve been,” His eyes challenged her to say it out loud, and she let out an infuriated stomp, “You’ve been touching me all night!”

“Was there some sort of rule about this? Like a two feet apart at all times, rule?” He asked, and she wanted to smack him at his sarcasm, as he took a huge step back from her, “Noted. Although I’m not sure this is a good way to spend the evening if we want people to think we’re actually friends.”

“Knock it off!” She yelled, “This, this cocky act, just knock it off Oliver! Stop touching me and making me feel things—it’s not fair. Let’s just get through this night, and then move on. Alright? Lets just go back out there—”

She started to walk past him, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm, pulling her back where she had been against the wall.

“Wait,” He sighed, regret flashing over his features, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted like that—although I didn’t mean to touch you. It just… I couldn’t help myself.” Oliver admitted.

“We haven’t been alone together since,” he cleared his throat shaking his head, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have,”

His apology was spoken quietly, as he caged her against the wall in between his arms, his head hung slightly in shame. Her anger transformed quickly as she watched his breath rise and fall in from of her, his face mere inches from her own.

“Oliver,” she said, his name a strangled cry on her throat as she both begged him to step away and come closer. His gaze rose to meet hers, and she watched as his eyes changed from upset to heated as he too noticed their close proximity.

His face moved slowly towards hers, until he was breathing across her lips—they both waited a beat, marking time.

“We probably shouldn’t,” Oliver started.

“I know,” Felicity interrupted, but their as their words caused their lips to brush they were both gone at the sensation, mouths crashing into each other. His lips captured her own, both tender and desperate as he beckoned her open to him, his tongue meeting hers. His body came flush against hers, slamming her into the wall behind them as he hands looped around his neck, teasing her fingers in his hair.

His hands went from framing her face, traveling down her sides and behind her, teasing her skin just below her shorts. His fingers dug in determinedly, pulling her legs up around his waist as he kissed from her mouth to her neck, ending on the soft skin behind her ear. She gasped at his teeth brushing against her ear, grinding into him.

“Felicity,” her name was a cry against her skin as his hands kneading her ass, pressing her more firmly against him.

“You guys can’t be back here,” A voice shouted suddenly, and Felicity slammed back against the wall, attempting to separate herself from Oliver.

An irritated guard glared at them from the end of the hall, and Felicity laughed awkwardly.

“Sorry, we got a little carried away,” Oliver excused, and she heard the smile in his voice as well as he took her hand, leading her down the hallway.

***

They drove home in a shockingly easy silence, the radio playing gently as Felicity reclined a bit in her chair, singing along softly as Oliver held her hand between them. She knew this wasn’t permanent—she knew he shouldn’t be holding her hand. She knew that what happened in the club was weakness on both of there parts. But she couldn’t help but wish it could last a little longer.

Oliver walked her up slowly to the door of her apartment, waiting as Felicity unlocked it before turning back to him.

He looked at her nervous, the cloud in his eyes reminding her that that night hadn’t changed anything. She mustered up the courage he lacked in that moment, rising on her toes to lay a lingering kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Oliver,” She said sadly, going into her apartment.

“Felicity?” He called and she looked back at him, “I’m sorr—”

“I know,” She silenced his apology with a forgiving smile, closing the door softly.

Laying in bed that night, she let her fingers trace her lips in memory of the kiss with Oliver. She supposed she should be more upset for their moment of weakness, but couldn’t help but be grateful for it. For that small moment, they were in complete agreement. For that tiny fraction of time, it was only the two of them that mattered.

Her phone lit up on her bedside table and she grabbed it tiredly, shocked as Oliver’s name lit up in her messaged box.

Guess the press took pictures. Maybe we don’t have to forget.

-Oliver

She opened up the attached pictures, studying them. Her and Oliver stood easily next to each other, grinning wildly at the camera. Oliver’s arm wrapped around her waist in both, and in the second they stared at each other openly. They looked happy. They looked in love.

Felicity fell asleep eventually, but her phone lay in her grasp during as she faded into unconsciousness, the smile on her face mirroring that in the picture.


End file.
